Long Long Journey
by Little Miss Sorrow
Summary: ...but what are miles across the ocean for the heart that's comming home... A Mac and Stella story


Disclaimer: CSI:NY belongs to CBS, shocker I know!

AN: Happy Easter everyone!  
Thank you Stella Taylor, you make me try harder

* * *

**Long Long Journey  
**_by: La Suede_

_Long, long journey  
__Out of no-where  
__Long, long way to go  
__But what are miles across the ocean  
__For the heart that's coming home_

_Long, long journey - Enya_

The first time I met you I was only 18 years old. I had just started college and I was on my way to my very first class. I was so nervous that I kept my nose in my book and was not looking where I was going and suddenly I was sprawled on the floor. Feeling slightly dazed from the impact, I looked up from my position on the floor straight into the eyes of the most handsome man I'd ever seen. You extended your hand and helped me to my feet before you bent down to pick up my things. I could only stare.

You stood back up and introduced yourself.

"Mac Taylor," you handed me back my books "Please let me buy you coffee as a way to apologize"

I smiled, feeling completely terrified; an older, gorgeous boy was asking me out for coffee. But New Yorker that I am, I just flashed you a confident smile and said

"I'm counting on it".

You walked me to my class.

And we didn't know it then, but it was the beginning of a very long and very good friendship.

But I remember that the moment I looked up into your eyes, I fell in love. And to this date, I don't think ever completely recovered from that first overwhelming love. Of course, I've dated men and I have maybe even loved men (I can't honestly remember), but I don't think it ever exceeded the love I've always knew was there for you.

Over some time after our college years we drifted apart, I went to work for narcotics and you went overseas with your Marines. (Can I tell you how proud I felt of you then?)

But when you got back and joined the CSI ranks, you, for some reason unknown to me, called me and asked me to join you at the crime lab. I was very reluctant at first, the CSIs were new and the old-school cops I worked with thought it was a lot of mumbo-jumbo.

You persuaded me, telling me I was not a woman to care about what other may think of me. You won me over with that argument. Our friendship that had been put on ice was re-ignited.

But things were slightly different now, you had got married. Of course I was happy for you, but I was still a bit jealous. I don't think I realised at the time that it was love; I think I chalked it up to fear of losing that special friendship we had had in school.

When you were promoted to supervisor for the crime lab we went out for drinks to celebrate. I think it was the first time I ever met your wife. I had been reluctant to meet her; I used to think that if I never met her, I could pretend that she didn't exist. Selfish I know, but in many ways that is just what I am, selfish.

But the moment I saw her fiery red hair, her bubbly personality, I couldn't help but love her, and I understood why you loved her as well. We started to spend time together, her and I, and in some ways she became the close girlfriend I had always lacked. I was so surprised at my actions; I thought I was going to hate her.

Then came that horrendous day in September when she was taken away form you. You hid your emotions from everyone; you even tried to hide them from me. I wouldn't let you do that. While I accepted that you didn't want the whole night-shift to see your breakdown, I made it clear that I would always be there no matter what. During long and dark nights I made you talk, I made you cry, and truth to be told I cried as well. I think we grew close during those twelve months after her death, but you never let me visit Ground Zero with you. You didn't know that I always followed you there, always a few steps behind to catch you if you fell.

Then after one year of closeness and comfort you distanced yourself from us. I tried to stay put and stand by your side, but it was hard when you kept pushing me away. And it hurt, by God, Mac, it did. I thought our friendship was deeper than that, but for two years you kept me at arms length. To my surprise we could still work as good as always, but there was nothing in our relationship that symbolised the once close friendship.

Then came a change, I think you believed three years was enough to grieve one's wife and you slowly started to turn back to my best friend Mac… the old Mac Taylor, as I liked to call him.

I've always prided myself with being able to judge people and notice the small changes. But this time I did not. You turned so slowly back to my best friend that I missed it altogether, I was ashamed, but happy. It was a small joke, a barely-there pun about a crime scene.

But as you grew bolder, and more comfortable in your change, you finally got my attention, but not the others, they were still oblivious to your change.

But they were not oblivious to the fact that you did not wear a tie anymore. I remember Aiden once asked you why you had taken it off, and you answered her:  
"Stella threatened to kill me if I didn't and if anyone can make it look like an accident its Stella Bonasera".

That's when I realised I still had a great influence over you. That you still listened to me and my advice. That's when I realised I still felt what I always had felt for you, that I had not, as I thought, buried my love for you under years of rubble and dust.

But I could never act upon the feeling I had for you, how could I? You are sort of my boss and more important you are my best friend, I could not risk losing that, we had just started to find our way back to our friendship, again I might add. We had a talent for losing each other.

But I didn't need to act upon it, you did that for me. Out of the blue you asked me out on a date, not involving hot dogs and basset hounds, and I took a giant leap, putting everything on the line and said "I'd love to".

Ten years on, I haven't regretted that decision.

_**Fini**_


End file.
